Mid Spring

  Jade

  1911 SC

  Theresia let out a sigh, gazing out the water-stained window. It was raining yet again, coming down in fits and starts as the Fates decided. The last week had been miserable, and the eleven-year-old could not see it improving any time soon.

  ‘Those soldiers of the Empire haven't done anything to improve the mood of the village. It's taken everything I've got to keep people from panicking and actually hurting someone.’

  After the Rite of the Elements, Theresia had mostly kept to herself. It wasn't that she was shunning her friends. The maturing girl had been musing on her future. Theresia was the only Silver in the village, the only Silver even out to the farthest farmsteads. Merchants that passed through were Silver, but they tended to be family operations and weren't looking to hire. Some said there was a Silver affinity or two down in the Dells, but no one could say where in particular.

  ‘So here I stand, spending all day covering Mayor Phillips’ store while he and his family try to put out the various small blazes. Well, I guess that's a good thing. He does his job and I do mine, which sort of is his job.’

  Theresia, acknowledging the difficulty of her situation, had chosen to be proactive. She had approached Mayor Phillips and asked him to act as her teacher and mentor. She pointed out that, as mayor, he had to be the most diplomatic and understanding of people in the village, which would always help a young Silver affinity like her. Theresia proposed that she work for the mayor in his store for as long as he wanted. Her pay would be learning from him, which was worth more than she could ever afford. The mayor thought this over before stopping by the Mesmer residence the following morning and agreeing to Theresia's proposal. The young girl never mentioned using a mild suggestion to encourage his decision.

  ‘At least nobody in the village has needed to deal with the soldiers. They keep to themselves and don't talk to anyone. The only one I've seen is the captain walking into the village once or twice. He had a quick word with the mayor and left quickly.’

  The ringing of the doorbell drew Theresia out of her reverie. Smiling politely, she turned to see who it was and found herself face-to-face with Harriet Thatcher. Theresia kept the smile in place. Inside, it was a different story.

  ‘I wonder if it would be worth compelling Harriet to love her daughter. Maria is the sweetest person and she... she.... threw her out!’

  “Good morning, Mrs Thatcher. I'm surprised you managed to swim your way across the village road.”

  Harriet let out a warm chuckle.

  “Yes, it is a little wet out. I was wondering if the mayor was about.”

  “I apologise, but Mayor Phillips is currently travelling the farmsteads to the north. He said he needed to help some people with their concerns.”

  Harriet nodded in agreement.

  “Yes, that sounds like him. A good man with a good heart. We are blessed to have him.”

  ‘I wish I could say the same of you.’

  Theresia maintained the self-control to keep the smile on her face and her body-language ingratiating.

  “Was there anything else I could help you with, Mrs Thatcher?”

  Harriet's gaze moved across the store shelves, stopping on several wares before returning to Theresia.

  “No, I'm fine for now, but thank you for asking.”

  Theresia curtseyed.

  “Of course. If I can help you in any other way, please don't hesitate to ask.”

  Theresia began pacing amongst the shelves, making small adjustments to various stocks. Flour, sugar, yeast, dried fruits from further west. The young girl could see herself working in this sort of store, using her words and affinity to bring in as many customers as possible. It wasn't something glorious, but she could make do with what she had.

  Then Theresia sighed and dashed that false dream. She was pretending to herself that something so mundane would be acceptable. It was a lie, a way of pretending that she remain in the village and become yet another member of the community.

  ‘If I could head west, travel to South Greywater, that would be wonderful. I'm stuck here until a merchant arrives. Hopefully, my parents can barter or pay for passage. It's risky, too; the merchant may not be honourable. I could end up in the Wylds, sold to one of the—'

  Theresia shook her head, shuddering at the thought. Villagers had told stories how dangerous the Wylds were. Lands that not even the Empire wished to claim, territory lawless and dark. A polite cough roused Theresia from her day dreaming. Looking up, she saw Mr Bulwer standing at the counter. Ms Thatcher was still in the store, idly talking with the hunter. Theresia managed to beam at the man, making sure to appear contrite and apologetic.

  “I'm so very sorry, Mr Bulwer. My mind was in another land. How can I help?”

  “That's perfectly alright. I'm looking for beeswax. Helps with the perpetual rain. Canvas, too, if you have any.”

  “I'll go out back now.”

  Theresia stepped behind the counter and through the doorway into the stockroom. With a quick glance over one shoulder, she could see the saddened mood of Russell Bulwer. Moving between the well stock pantries, Theresia found both the beeswax and a square of canvas ready to be cut to measure.

  ‘Russell lost one of his best friends. He and Leonard were the chief hunters of the village, protecting the farms from wolves, bears, and worse. They were both accidental parents too, if what I overheard my father saying one time was true. I wonder if he'll ever take on another hunting partner.’

  Projecting a cheery expression, Theresia left the stockroom and arrived mid-discussion.

  “Well, that is a bit of a pickle, Russell,” Harriet replied.

  “You see my point. I've a mind for tools and hunting, showing how the boy should work and prove himself. But women's business, well, that's beyond me.”

  Harriet shook her head. Theresia could see the woman was masking some deeper concern, but it was difficult to ferret out. Not wanting to stare and give away her observations, Theresia kept busy pretending to search behind the counter for something.

  “I don't understand it. Heph's gotten it into his head that he should become a soldier. I've told him time and time again that isn't the path for him, that Master Gailan has been very patient in tolerating his mistakes. He needs to focus on his training lest he never find a trade skill.”

  “It is a worry. But he's a headstrong boy and might have a bit of rebellious streak.”

  Harriet looked Russell up and down before giving him a knowing look.

  “He's not the first, either.”

  Theresia found it hard not to freeze up. Russell went cold, his body language shifting from social to tense, defensive. Though she couldn't tell why, Theresia thought Mr Bulwer was not pleased about what had been said, and there was a deep-seated pain about it, too.

  “You should be proud of your boy, Russell. We all did wonder as the Rite of the Elements approached. And he outdid himself. That is why people let your past remain that.”

  “My second problem is more everyone in the village’s problem,” Russell continued.

  “The Empire soldiers,” Harriet concluded.

  “They've got everyone on edge. I've never seen so many nervous people.”

  “I'm sure once they finish their business, everything will settle down. We've an especially strong spring to work through still.”

  Russell nodded in agreement.

  “You are, of course, right. It's just, with all the soldiers trumping about, it's hard to do my own job. I'm a hunter; I move about looking for what is dangerous and finding game as I can. When that captain tells me I have to stay away from the soldiers, and they happen to be everywhere, the living starts to get lean. Sometimes the Matron tests us.”

  “Hah, that she does. Tell you true, if anyone found a way to have those soldiers move faster, why the town would buy them a house more grand than even the alchemist's. Not that I’m directing fault at you, Russell. You earned your house rather than taking up residence in with her.”

  “Another time, please, Harriet” Russell said, eyes flicking to Theresia briefly. “Everyone agreed to keeping their peace long ago.”

  Harriet nodded, conflicting emotions crossing her face.

  “Sorry, Russell, that was rude of me. It seems that the Fates are queer in their humour. That my daughter might end up a Null, and yet your... No, another time; you are right.”

  Theresia set the beeswax and canvas on the bench, doing the sums in her head for what Mr Bulwer owed her. Looking up from her work, she found it hard not to spit. At the first mention of Ms Perenelle, Harriet went colder than even Mr Bulwer. It was anger, rage, hate, all directed towards the woman, towards alchemists, towards--

  ‘She hates Null so much, I want to scream. I can't deal with this anymore. Mrs Thatcher isn't the only one; most of the village has their prejudices. They smile and buy what they can of Ms Perenelle, but it's all two-faced. Mrs Thatcher was bedridden, as ill as you can be, and Ms Perenelle saved her, made her right as rain. The first merchant wagon, I'm leaving. I don't care if it's a man with no teeth and a stubby donkey, I can't tolerate the bile any longer.’ Not a new para.

  “So, that will be one mark, two pennies, please, Mr Bulwer,” Theresia cheerily announced.

  “No trace has been found?”

  Clarissa held up the phylactery, the contents glowing in the morning sun.

  “I'm certain of it, Captain. He hasn't left any sign of his passage. Unless he is now nothing but bones, I'm certain of it.”

  Thuma sat up from the low stone fence where he had been sitting. Lumbering over, he took a look at the phylactery, and then the graveyard.

  “One place we need to look,” the giant rumbled.

  Captain Ilthell nodded in agreement.

  “That's where we first picked him up, but that's also where the trail ends. Thuma, you'll be on digging duty. Clarissa, Lendor, guard the grave site. Dace, I want you on the perimeter; something may start shuffling when we disturb the dirt.”

  Flidais checked her bow and shortsword before taking a step forward.

  “Conspicuous absence,” she addressed the captain.

  “What do you think about the nephew? Possible contingency?”

  Flidais shrugged her shoulders.

  “Child's bright.”

  “Might be a sign; the curse could bleed some of him over. Even if he's a Null... Leonin broke plenty of the natural laws we thought inviolate. One more wouldn't be surprising.”

  Lendor gave a vicious grin.

  “Then reel him in, Captain. If we think he's trouble, we check. If he's gone bad, we deal with him. That's what we were sent to do.”

  “The boy was laying a wreath at the grave when I first arrived,” Flidais noted. “Maybe it's time he came by with another one?”

  Captain Ilthell looked like he was mulling over the idea.

  “Let him know he has permission to visit the graveyard. After all, who are we to deny the child his chance to make an offering to the Matriarch?”

  Less a knock and more a thump, that's what Maria thought as she made her way to the entrance.

  ‘Who are they, and why are they so loud?’

  Opening the front door, Maria was nearly barrelled over by Alan Sumner. The grim-faced farmer trudged past the girl and stood at the bench where most of the herbs were prepared and the alchemy performed. Hard eyed and with craggy features, the man glared around room, gaze flickering over the cabinets and their contents. Finally, the glare settled on Maria, who let out a little squeak and closed the door. Trying not to run, she made her way around to the kitchen doorway. Leaning around the frame, she spoke.

  “I'm sorry to bother you, Ms Perenelle, but we've Mr Sumner waiting right now.”

  Perenelle looked up from her baking and nodded her head. Sleeves rolled up, clean apron about her chest, she did not look the part of a respected alchemist. Unperturbed, she wandered in and folded her arms, expression neutral.

  “And what may I help you with today, Alan?”

  The farmer seemed almost offended that Perenelle greeted him in such a casual fashion, even addressing him by first name. Alan stuck out his chin.

  “I've need of an eyes of the predator potion. Two, if you bother to have them.”

  Maria kept quiet as Perenelle walked over to a cabinet, unlocked it, and retrieved a single potion before locking it. The calm alchemist placed the potion on her table and folded her arms yet again.

  “My inventory taken this morning showed that I have ten of this potion. But I think today, you will only be needing one. Two marks, please.”

  Grimacing, the man reached into a pocket and withdrew the funds, placing them on the table and snatching up the clay bottle.

  “Been bad luck ever since the Rite, bad luck even before. I lose several sheep, so, too, my neighbours.”

  “I'm sorry to hear that, Alan; times must be tough,” Perenelle answered.

  “None in living memory know a time when two Null be born. Moment they were here, we had trouble. Now we have soldiers stomping around, a Necromancer raising our ancestors, and livestock missing.”

  Perenelle shook her head, not so much angry as disappointed in what was being said.

  “My apprentices and I have business to attend to, Alan. If we are finished, I'll ask that you leave. I don't need any distractions while I train the two in an honest occupation.”

  Alan Sumner snorted and spun around, stomping towards the door. Puzzle was descending the stairs with a small wreath held in one hand. He didn't notice the angry farmer until he ran into him at the base. Alan pointed an accusing finger at Puzzle.

  “Your uncle never finished his job, died before he should have. Now, I've no option but to buy this expensive drivel so I can look out for the wolves myself.”

  Looking pole-axed, Puzzle backed up the steps. Alan pulled the door open and glared at the boy.

  “Likely your fault he's not here, too.”

  Before Puzzle could protest, the door slammed shut. Making his way down to the bottom step, Puzzle sat down, staring at the wreath in his hands. The weather outside had been better than the previous day; overcast but mostly dry. It was the only chance Puzzle had to get to the graveyard for the next week. Since the soldiers had arrived, the weather and their presence had prevented Puzzle from making his offering.

  Maria came and sat down next to Puzzle, giving his arm a squeeze.

  “Ms Perenelle said this would happen. People are afraid. They lash out and hurt people.”

  Taking a slow, deep breath, Puzzle squared his shoulders and stood up. He grabbed his hand-me-down coat from the peg beside the door.

  “Is it safe?” Maria asked.

  Perenelle walked over to where the two were, looking between the pair.

  “If Romas has said it is safe for Puzzle to visit the graveyard, then it is safe. He is very thorough in what he does. Don't dally, Puzzle; we have a large back order to work through. I also have several recipes to introduce the two of you to.”

  “Yes, Ms Perenelle,” Puzzle answered.

  Watching Puzzle leave, Maria looked up from where she stood on the step.

  “I hope once they leave, everyone stops being angry, Ms Perenelle.”

  Perenelle's face was inscrutable.

  ‘Another long day, another one spent running buckets and stoking the forge,’ Heph grumbled as he rolled his shoulders.

  He trudged down the street, everything sore. Even his ears felt sore. Mostly from Master Gailan browbeating him every time a mistake was made. Heph was trying, he truly was, but it seemed as though Metalsmithing was not his craft. For someone who worked diligently on his elemental affinity, pushing himself to work Iron more and more, it felt strange that he was not a perfect fit for the craft.

  ‘Will I ever get this?’ Heph wondered. ‘I'll try and I'll do my best, but maybe this isn't the thing for me. Fishes don't fly in sky, maybe I don't either.’

  Heph had left earlier than usual, partly because he wanted to and partly because Master Gailan had dismissed him. It was approaching sunset, people heading home to families and warm food. Living out of town meant Heph would likely get home after dark, which suited him fine. He wanted a chance to think things over, come to his own decisions.

  “I don't think anyone has ever ignored me for so long,” an impish voice chirped.

  Thoughts unravelling, Heph looked up to see the ever-mischievous Theresia sitting on her family porch, legs dangling over the edge. She patted a space next to her.

  “Come over, Heph; I've been lonely all week.”

  Rolling his eyes, Heph stumped over and sat. Stretching, he gave Theresia his attention.

  “How you been?”

  “I'm pretty certain I said I was lonely all week.”

  Heph shrugged.

  “Besides being lonely.”

  ‘Normally she's so... controlled. Happy, smiling and polite. Right now, she looks really troubled, even scared.’

  “I don't like this, Heph. Everything seems wrong. Anyone who comes into the store is wound up. I'm starting to hate it.”

  “The smithy isn't doing so bad. With all this talk about monsters and Necromancers and stuff, everyone has been buying weapons. Axes, spears, doesn't matter. I don't know if any know how to use what they buy, but they seem so anxious to purchase a weapon.”

  “It's getting worse. Mrs Thatcher was in the store and started talking to your father. They both sounded really... well, scared.”

  Heph raised an eyebrow and folded his arms.

  “You aren't meant to eavesdrop, Theresia,” he lectured her.

  “I wasn't eavesdropping. They spoke right in front of me. They didn't notice me, I think, but I didn't use anything on them, either.”

  “You have some bad habits, Theresia.”

  “Hey, I said I didn't do anything wrong!”

  Heph quirked his head to one side, giving the impression he didn't believe her entirely.

  ‘I wonder... I haven't seen Puzzle or Maria all week, haven't talked to them. But perhaps Theresia could...’

  “Hey, Theresia, can I ask you something?”

  “Yeees,” Theresia dragged out the word cautiously.

  Heph thought over how to say what he needed to. He didn't want to sound like the rest of the village, but he did have some odd doubts.

  “When the soldiers first arrived, they sent a runner to Master Gailan. One of Mayor Phillips’ daughters. They don't gossip, so it was an important message. I couldn't… I couldn't help myself. I followed Master Gailan to the mayor's house. I overheard what they said. Well, some of it.”

  Theresia stared at Heph, expression unchanging. Then she let out a merry cackle and punched Heph in the arm warmly.

  “You're always trying to lecture me, Heph! Instead, it's you being all skullduggerous, sneaking around and... Oh, what was that word again...”

  “Eavesdropping,” Heph muttered.

  “Yes, that's the word,” Theresia said with her biggest grin.

  Heph put his head in his hands.

  “I blame you. I've always been honest, always done the right thing. Then you start doing what you do. I start listening to you. You're a bad influence, Theresia.”

  Theresia stuck her tongue out.

  “You were sneaky, not me. When I next see Maria or Puzzle, I'll let them know what you did. Honest Heph has fallen.”

  Heph sat up looked Theresia in the eye.

  “You won't do that, Theresia. I know your weakness if you do.”

  “My what?”

  Faster than the girl could react, Heph wrapped his hands around Theresia's abdomen.

  “I'm tempted to turn you into a giggling mess just for threatening me.”

  Theresia looked at Heph and smiled.

  “Heph, I'm only teasing, let me go.”

  As the seconds passed Theresia eyes slowly went wide.

  “You can't use a suggestion on someone who has a strong emotion inside them. And my emotion right now is to make you squeal,” Heph confidently pointed out.

  Theresia held up her palms before Heph.

  “I promise I will not say a word, a whisper.”

  It was Heph's turn to smile, pulling his hands away.

  “We got side-tracked,” he apologised. “I heard two words that I didn't know when the mayor and Master Gailan were speaking to the scout. One of them was phylactery.”

  Theresia frowned.

  “Sorry, I don't know that. What's the other word?”

  “Exhume.”

  Again, Theresia frowned, before paling.

  ‘Somethings wrong, something is really wrong.’

  “Heph, what exactly did they say?”

  “I can't remember the exact words. But they talked about exhuming the body and something about a fire making it difficult.”

  “Heph, how did Leonard die?”

  ‘But... but that's not right. They said they were looking for a—'

  Before Theresia could say anything Heph was sprinting towards Perenelle's house.

  Hephaestus burst through the door of Perenelle's cottage. Maria and Perenelle looked up from their work, the alchemist glaring at Heph over her glasses.

  “There had better--”

  “The graveyard. Those soldiers. They're digging up Leonard!” Heph blurted out.

  In shock, Maria spoke before Perenelle had a chance.

  “Puzzle left for Leonard's grave not long ago.”

  Heph spun and left, not leaving the alchemist a chance to ask what was going on. Perenelle looked to Maria.

  “Grab your cloak, young lady. We best find Puzzle before he does something foolish, fatal, or both.”

  Maria bobbed her head in agreement and set down the clay flask she had been filling. Perenelle walked towards the door and found the portal blocked by the outline of an unannounced woman. The Empire scout shimmered into existence as the hood of the Chameleon Cloak was pulled back, hand resting easy on the shortsword at her thigh.

  “Perhaps we should give him five minutes’ head start,” the scout advised.

  “Out of my way,” Perenelle warned her.

  “I'm sorry, Journeyman, but this is something that needs to be done. I have to know if the boy is a threat or not.”

  “How can Puzzle be a threat?” Maria demanded.

  “That was no ordinary man buried out in the graveyard. Puzzle might be an unwitting pawn and I have strict orders to ensure that he makes it to the dig site without interference.”

  “How is emotionally scarring an eleven-year-old boy going to prove anything?” Perenelle asked mildly.

  “That is what we will soon determine.”

  Perenelle glanced at her young charge and gave a quick flick of her fingers. Maria stepped away from the doorway, backing up until her spine pressed against the table. Turning on her heel, the alchemist walked over to a cabinet sitting against the wall and slid a glass-panelled door open. Inside were several marked ceramic flasks. With calm control, she let her fingers scroll over the selection before coming to a stop over one flask, its side engraved with the image of what looked like a burning blossom. The alchemist took the flask out of the cabinet and turned to face the scout. She held it up so that the woman barring her passage could clearly see what lay in her hands.

  “Do you recognise what I happen to be holding?” Perenelle asked politely.

  The scout's clear green eyes widened in surprise.

  “I will take that as a ‘yes’.”

  The scout's fingers carefully wrapped around the hilt of her shortsword.

  “It can't be... you haven't...” she stammered.

  “Coincidences are my business, soldier. Now, unless you wish for me to mop you off the porch of my house, move.”

  Maria could only watch gobsmacked as the scout edged out of the doorway. Perenelle placed the flask back in the cabinet, closed the small door, and walked calmly to her cloak-hook, taking her maroon coat off a hanger and slipping into it as she walked by the scout.

  “I'm confident you owe me your life. Your captain certainly does,” Perenelle whispered.

  Not wasting a second, Maria bolted after Perenelle, looking incredulously up at the scout. Even though she could only see her eyes, Maria was certain there was fear stamped in them. The young girl dutifully closed the door behind her as she exited the house.

  The two women briskly walked down the main street of the village, Maria not sure what to say. Once out of eyesight, Perenelle took out two small clay vials from her bandoleer and offered one to Maria. Without question that girl took the vial, watching Perenelle the stopper and drink the luminous blue liquid, imitating her a second later. A strange tingle passed through Maria's body, finishing in her chest and legs. It felt as though Maria's body were aflame, nervous energy causing her to twitch uncomfortably on the spot.

  Perenelle began walking, long legs carrying her out of the village quickly. Soon her strides broke into something of a jog meant to cover distance. Maria had to shift to almost a sprint to keep up with the older woman, but even so, her lungs felt clear and her legs loose. To Maria's eyes, it was as though the world were moving by in a blur as she ran through the forested edges of the village.

  “Will we get to him in time?” Maria shouted as they ran.

  “I can only hope so.”

  ‘Sorry I am so late, Uncle Leonard. I know you would understand. We have been busy and they have not let us near you for a few days now.’

  Puzzle was glad to have a chance to be away from everyone and everything in the village. It was stifling, all their fears and concerns. The people were so wound up, it almost hurt to be around them. Oddly, coming to a place where the dead rested was a great relief. Rounding a final bend, Puzzle saw the familiar hand-built rock wall that marked the edge of the cemetery. And standing within the confines of the wall was the captain, and several unfamiliar figures. They looked like a motley assortment of travellers and soldiers from all edges of the world and walks of life. Some were dressed in light leathers, some in scale. Something that looked like a full set of plate armour was put to one side, similar but less complete to the one worn by the fiery-haired woman Puzzle had met during the Rite. All looked dangerous, people who knew violence and were experts in its application.

  The grave where Leonard lay interred was now a mess, heavy brown soil piled up high on either side. Puzzle could see a large man with shirtsleeves rolled up inside the grave itself, shovel flashing as he dug. Small clods of dirt followed behind the tool, landing on either great mound of dirt. Without a thought, Puzzle rolled one shoulder to shuck off the scabbard, letting it slide down one arm and into waiting hand. He drew the scimitar.

  “Oi!” Puzzle shouted as he ran down the path towards the entrance to the cemetery.

  An older man languidly looked up from his examination of the open grave and gave a half-snort. He was dressed in a chain shirt with a number of daggers strapped in sheaths attached to his limbs. Two mean-looking axes hung from his belt. Appearing bored, he raised a hand and directed it towards Puzzle. Two more looked up from their grisly work and gave the bored man an inquiring look.

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Puzzle felt a bar of force flat against his neck. Before he even knew what was going on the boy flipped under the blow, legs flying out ahead while his neck pivoted on the immovable point of impact. Landing hard on the ground, Puzzle let out a cry of pain. Staring up, he saw the male scout from earlier shimmer into existence above him, arm now visible where it had clotheslined him. A sharp kick to the wrist sent the scimitar tumbling away, pain lancing through his left hand. Hissing, Puzzle tried to stand up, but was knocked back to the ground when the heel of a boot slammed into his neck, pinning him to the dirt.

  “Struggle and I'll cut something off,” the male scout warned.

  Breath coming in and out in small gasps, Puzzle stared up at his attacker, but tried no further heroics.

  “Hey, leave him alone!” Heph shouted.

  Puzzle looked to his left and saw Heph clearing the last bend. Looking back to the right, Puzzle watched the bored looking man raise his hand again, this time in Heph's direction.

  “Look out!” Puzzle cried.

  The bored man crooked his fingers. Puzzle turned back and watched helplessly, unable to protect his friend. Heph slowed down, but he pushed forward with both hands as though fighting against an invisible force. Puzzle swore he saw a flicker of grey in the air, and then Heph was running at full speed again.

  A raucous of laughter broke out from the soldiers stationed around the grave.

  “Two little boys seemed to have bested your Elemental skill,” one of them teased.

  Heph came to a halt a few paces from Puzzle, hands on his knees as he panted from exertion.

  “He isn't going to attack you. Let him up,” Heph pleaded.

  The scout kept his boot-heel on Puzzle's throat and looked towards the main group of soldiers. The captain separated himself from the other soldiers, taking a step forward and giving Puzzle an assessing look. He raised one hand and gave an approving flick of the wrist.

  “Let the boy up, Dace,” Captain Ilthell's voice carried over the graveyard.

  Puzzle felt the pressure ease. Heph walked over to where he lay and offered him a hand, pulling his friend to his feet. Dusting his back off, Puzzle watched in horror as the soldiers continued to dig. Within a minute, the sound of metal hitting wood echoed out from the excavation. The giant soldier doing the digging threw out the shovel and motioned with one hand, a crowbar offered to him by the bored knife wielder. The sound of nails and wood being torn filled the cemetery. The gravedigger was pulled out. Another soldier stepped forward, the woman dressed in leather lamellar and carrying a flanged mace at her side. She drew out the phylactery Puzzle had seen earlier, crimson liquid bright against the metal. The woman held the strange trinket over the grave. Puzzle took a step forward, but found his way barred by a bronze longsword. Looking to his left, he saw that Dace had drawn his weapon, holding it bare before his neck. Swallowing slowly, Puzzle watched the scene. The crimson liquid in the vial began to glow, matching the faint, shimmering aura of the silvery mesh surrounding it. The woman bent down and the glow increased. Nodding her head, she withdrew the phylactery and hung the chain around her neck, hiding the vial beneath her armour.

  “It's definitely him, Sir,” she said. “Though what happened, I'm not sure. The phylactery confirms it. Dace was right.”

  The bored looking soldier gave a derisive sneer.

  “We come all this way for nothing. Bastard doesn't even give us the honour of a clean kill,” he cursed.

  The soldier kicked a clod of dirt into the grave.

  “Hey!” Puzzle shouted.

  The man glanced over to Puzzle and rolled his eyes.

  “What does this pile of charred bones and dirt mean to you anyway, child?”

  “That was my uncle, you bastard.”

  The bored soldier's eyes narrowed dangerously. He looked down at the bones, then over to Puzzle, and finally to the scimitar that still lay on the ground a few paces away.

  “That sword... I know that... He’s a Black Seed,” he cursed.

  His expression shifted. Boredom replaced with a cold, seething anger. Something nursed over many years. The man moved so fast, he was like liquid. Sliding palms across alternate wrists the man drew two throwing knives hidden beneath bracers. In one smooth motion, he threw the knives at Puzzle. The young boy could only watch as the two blades sailed through the air towards him, too fast to dodge.

  ‘Fates help me!’

  The blades spun away from Puzzle, embedding themselves in the grass to either side of his body. Puzzle realised that he was holding his breath and exhaled. The rest of the soldiers looked quite amused, glancing at each other and smirking. It was then that Puzzle realised the air around him had a faint grey hue to it. Looking behind, Puzzle saw that Hephaestus had both hands outstretched, clenched into fists.

  “You did that?” Puzzle whispered.

  “I wasn't about to let my friend die,” Heph replied.

  “A deflection field from a child. Not bad. Not bad at all,” the captain observed, Gold eyes appraising Heph before he glanced down into the open grave.

  The angry soldier made to draw another dagger.

  “The next time you decide to take matters into your own hands without orders, Lendor, I will personally cut off a finger,” the golden-eyed captain warned.

  “But, Sir, he could--”

  “Put your weapon away, Lendor...” The last word drew out into an implied threat. "We both have history with the monster. Yes. Losing your composure. I expected better of you. Take a breather. Now."

  Lendor looked torn. Puzzle watched him, weighing up options. To his surprise, Dace stepped in front of Puzzle, bronze shortsword held low. Lendor rammed the dagger in its sheath and stormed away, vaulting the low stone wall of the cemetery and blending into the surrounding underbrush. Both Puzzle and Hephaestus let out a sigh of relief.

  “Get to filling the hole,” the captain ordered. “The rest of you, be ready to move out. We break camp tomorrow morning. I will send our report to the governor's office and determine our next course of action.”

  The large soldier with the rolled-up shirtsleeves grabbed his shovel. The captain left the exhumed grave and walked between the simple gravestones and out of the cemetery, stopping before Puzzle. He looked down at the boy with discerning eyes.

  “And what do I do with you?” he muttered.

  Dace stepped away from Puzzle and Heph, sheathing his shortsword. The scout walked over and took a deferential place behind.

  “What's your name?” the captain asked.

  “Puzzle.”

  “And your friend?”

  “Hephaestus,” Heph answered.

  Puzzle swore for a moment he could see a faint glimmer in the captain's eyes.

  “That was quite an impressive feat of Elemental skill, Hephaestus. Not many at your age can manage a Greater Technique like that. Your parents named you appropriately. The title of a Vesulian suits you well.”

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  Captain Ilthell took a step closer to Puzzle and half raised a hand, before letting it slip down by his side.

  “You are a Null.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  The soldier looked behind to the scimitar that lay on the grass. Curiously, the grass beneath it had begun to whither, turning brown and wilting.

  “Go collect your blade, Puzzle. I have much to discuss with your-”

  The captain looked up from Puzzle, a half-smile forming on his face. Puzzle turned to see Perenelle and Maria cresting the hill as though they were on a casual afternoon stroll. The alchemist walked up behind Puzzle and placed a protective hand on his shoulder. Maria stood with Hephaestus, all three children staring up at the captain.

  “Well, it truly is a small world,” the captain greeted the two new arrivals. “Fare thee well, Journeyman? Or is it Master these days?”

  “Still Journeyman. If I took the rank of Master, I would have to settle down in one of the Halls, and I'm far too young for that.”

  The soldier chuckled.

  “Yes, I don't see you doing that until your hair is grey and your face lined.”

  “Perhaps we can discuss matters back in the village, Captain Ilthell? I'm sure your men have had enough of digging around in old graves for lost causes.”

  Captain Ilthell gave a half-bow.

  “I bow to your judgement, Journeyman...”

  “Perenelle.”

  The alchemist gestured and began walking back down the path that led back to the village. Captain Ilthell and Dace matched pace, following behind the four. All walked in silence.

  Theresia sat on the steps of the cottage, Maria, Heph and Puzzle having joined her. None wanted to be inside Perenelle's two-storey cottage this night. None of them particularly liked the company that the alchemist was keeping. So the four children sat on the steps and whispered amongst themselves, wondering what to make of the new development.

  ‘What are they talking about?’ Theresia wondered.

  The young woman was curious as to what was being discussed. Theresia herself hadn't been privileged to see the initial meeting between the alchemist and the captain, but Heph had described how they seemed very familiar, almost congenial.

  ‘I know I'm missing something.’

  Theresia played with the Silver lock of hair that hung from her brow, turning thoughts and possibilities over in her head. Looking to Puzzle, she wondered what was on his mind. He had been even quieter than usual upon their return. The female scout, Flidais, had remained in the village after her run-in with Perenelle. She hadn't said much to the mayor once they finished their talk. But it seemed as though the soldiers outside of the village had found something, or at least found something they weren't expecting. Theresia wondered if it would be worth talking to one of the soldiers and suggesting they explain what was going on.

  “What do they want with my uncle?” Puzzle muttered.

  Theresia looked up to the dark-haired boy, grey eyes inscrutable. She put a comforting hand on his knee.

  “I'm sure it is all one big misunderstanding.”

  “They dug up his bones, Theresia,” Heph interrupted. “I don't think someone does that when they might be wrong.”

  “I'm sure Ms Perenelle will explain everything once she's finished talking with Captain Ilthell,” Maria added.

  “That man, Lendor; he tried to kill me. No hesitation. He drew his weapons. I am alive only because of Heph. What could my uncle have done? Why would he attack without pause?”

  Theresia cursed the fact that should couldn't use her Elemental Affinity to help calm Puzzle's emotions, cursed the fact that she couldn't use her magic to help him. He seemed even more distant that usual. It was like some cold malaise was gripping his soul. Puzzle had always been a serious sort of boy, but now, now it was concerning.

  “Well, if none of you are going to do anything, then I will,” Puzzle announced.

  “Do what, Puzzle?” Heph asked.

  “I do not know; ask them what is going on. Ask them why they tried to kill us, why they are truly here, ask what they are looking for, ask why they dug up my uncle's bones.”

  Puzzle let out an angry snort and stood up, turning and facing the door. Maria gave Theresia a worried look. Nodding in turn, Theresia looked up at Puzzle and concentrated. She reached out and felt the Aether around her, felt the permeable field that seemed to surround everything. Focussing her will, she began to draw on it, feeling the minor rush as her body became a channel for such power. Aether flooded into her body, quickly filling it to the brim. Theresia then did as she had been practising, weaving the Aether into her voice and directing it towards Puzzle.

  “Do you think that's a wise idea, Puzzle?” Theresia suggested. “They asked for us to remain outside. Perenelle is an intelligent woman; she didn't want us present for good reasons. And the mayor, too; he wanted us to remain outside of this meeting as well. Do you want to aggravate both, on the same night, at the same time?”

  Theresia watched the silvery threads of her Elemental Technique glide through the air and surround Puzzle. None could see them clearly but her. None but another Silver. The moment they touched him, the threads of Aether fell away, like oil and water trying to mix. Theresia was still coming to grips with her inability to affect Null. She'd acted without thinking.

  Fingering the scimitar strapped over his shoulder, Puzzle looked down at Theresia.

  “I will take my chances; I want... No, I need answers.”

  Puzzle reached for the handle, door swinging inwards before he could grasp it. Standing in the doorway, silhouetted against the wan yellow light coming from within, was Captain Ilthell. To one side of him was Mayor Phillips, also appearing ready to leave. The captain looked down at Puzzle with his Gold eyes, something distant and unsure hinted in them.

  “If you will excuse me,” he said.

  Puzzle stepped out of the doorway, allowing the soldier to leave. Mayor Phillips followed behind, thumbing his moustache and looking more perturbed than the captain. He took one look at Puzzle and shook his head.

  “You'll want to speak to your guardian,” he said before leaving, not even saying goodnight to any of the children.

  Theresia still had a last few threads of Aether hovering in the air and chose to redirect it at the mayor. She reshaped them into a more subtle empathy technique, used for reading a person's general mood and feelings rather than directing those emotions or delving deeper. This time, the strands of Aether snaked forward, carefully insinuating themselves into the mayor. Theresia didn't try to force anything from him; instead she passively felt his emotions, felt his inner mental landscape. Fear. Worry. Revulsion. A sticky melange that Theresia quickly retreated from.

  Puzzle gave his three friends a confused look and shrugged his shoulders before stepping into the cottage. The rest were on their feet and pushing through the doorway an instant later, Theresia closing the door behind. Inside the cottage was a clutter of teacups and open books. Perenelle was putting all the old books together, checking the pages were not dog-eared or out of place before closing them and neatly stacking them to one side. The fireplace burned quite low, orange light playing against the walls. The smell of freshly brewed tea filled the main room of the cottage. Puzzle walked over to the fire and stretched his hands over it, wiggling fingers as he warmed them. Heph and Maria walked over to the table and sat down, making sure not to get in the alchemist's way. Theresia chose not to sit with her friends, instead leaning against the door and watching the scene unfold. Again she cursed her inability to use her Elemental Techniques on a Null. Though the more she interacted with Perenelle, the more she was certain that had the woman possessed magical talent, her own techniques would have failed anyway.

  ‘The alchemist is someone who the captain holds in high regard. What does that mean?’

  Perenelle finally finished sorting the books. Maria stood up and offered to place them back in the bookshelves, which Perenelle happily accepted. While Maria returned the books, Perenelle grabbed the still steaming kettle from its place on the table and poured five more cups of tea, water shimmering a faint green-black. Theresia took the cup when offered and sipped slowly, inhaling the steam as she did so. The tea was bitter, not too astringent. It was tea to drink and mull over problems and troubles.

  “So, what is to happen now, Ms Perenelle?” Puzzle finally asked.

  Perenelle stopped her clearing of the table and looked to Puzzle, who now stood with his back to the fireplace, staring at her.

  “We are leaving tomorrow. Right after dawn. Captain Ilthell and his soldiers will escort us down from the foothills and through the Dells until we arrive in South Greywater. Once there, you will begin your full apprenticeship with the Alchemy Guild. Maria will come too, of course. It's high time the both of you started learning what it means to be an alchemist.”

  Puzzle nodded in agreement.

  “Yes, Ms Perenelle,” he said meekly.

  ‘One moment he rages about seeking answers, the next he's as meek as a kitten. It's as though he isn't quite sure what to do, to be passive or take charge of the situation. Well, if he isn't going to speak, I will.’

  “What about the rest of us?” Theresia asked.

  Perenelle fixed Theresia with a measured look.

  “What of you? Your place is here with the village. Helping your parents and the community.”

  Theresia shook her head.

  “I disagree. I'm the first child with a Silver affinity in several years. Who am I going to learn any sort of Elemental Techniques from? I've been trying to muddle my way through this, but it's not the same as having a teacher, a mentor.”

  Perenelle fixed her discerning gaze on Theresia.

  “So, you would leave your friends, leave your family, leave everything you grew up with to travel with us to South Greywater, to the regional capital? You would give up all you have for the chance to learn how to use your techniques and skills?”

  “And what about me, huh?” Heph demanded. “I'm not like the rest of you, I don't have any fancy affinity, and I'm certainly not an alchemist. But I still want to learn, want to see what's out there. I was talking with Flidais and she said I'd make a fine soldier, said my skill and training was impressive.”

  Perenelle chuckled.

  “Yes, Romas did seem quite impressed with what you did. Used a deflection field to knock back two daggers, if the story he told is to be believed. But the army is not something taken lightly. You're not hunting wild fauna, Heph; you will have the blood of other people on your hands. People who grew up like you; people with friends, families, husbands and wives. Maybe even children. Your job will be to kill them.”

  Perenelle set down her own teacup and sat in a chair, giving the children all assessing looks.

  “But why are you asking me? I'm not your parents. Talking to me isn't going to change anything.”

  “Captain Ilthell seems to think differently,” Heph pointed out.

  Perenelle smiled.

  “The captain and I are old acquaintances, that is all. I'm no one important.”

  Maria gestured towards the cabinet where Perenelle kept her more dangerous potions, oils and flasks.

  “Flidais didn't think so,” she spoke up. “You looked her right in the eye and she backed down.”

  Perenelle adjusted her glasses and sighed, closing her eyes as though she were in pain.

  “I had a feeling the four of you would ask something like this.”

  A polite rap on the door broke the conversation. Theresia masked her surprise by turning around and opening it. In the doorway, she found her own parents as well as Heph's father. Taking a step back, she allowed the three adults to enter the cottage. Perenelle poured three more cups of tea and motioned for the new arrivals to sit.

  “Alright, Journeyman Perenelle, what is it that you've called me out in the dark of night that so badly needs to be discussed?” Russell muttered as he raised the cup of tea to mouth. “I don't believe Nicolas appreciates being an errand runner. Goes contrary to his mayoral roots.”

  “Your son asked if he could travel with me to the provincial capital so that he could join the army,” Perenelle replied, matter-of-fact.

  The burly man began choking on his tea, coughing and spluttering. It took a firm few strikes on his back by Anders Mesmer to help him regain his dignity. Theresia's mother, Lana, meanwhile motioned for her daughter to come sit with her, Theresia obeying. Sitting down on her mother's lap at the table, Theresia leant back against her and closed her eyes, letting her ears and mind's eye observe what was transpiring.

  “Is this true, Heph?” Russell asked, shock evident.

  The boy bowed his head and nodded in agreement.

  “I was talking to some of the soldiers today. Have you met the scout, Flidais? She said I would make an excellent soldier, said that people like me have a real chance at making a difference in the wide world.”

  “And what of your apprenticeship under Master Gailan? Would you abandon your responsibilities like that?” Russell jabbed an accusing finger in Perenelle's direction. “This is your meddling, alchemist.”

  “No, it's not, Father,” Heph protested. “I started talking with the soldiers back at the Rite. I was the one that asked the questions. Before you arrived, Ms Perenelle was trying to talk me out of it.”

  Russell shook his head, face a pinched grimace.

  “I'll not allow it. You are to stay here, Heph, and learn you place, learn your trade. You will make a fine metalsmith.”

  “I'm not a fine metalsmith, Father; not even close,” Heph said in a loud voice. “You just don’t want to hear that.”

  Mrs Mesmer's hands rested on Theresia's, hugging her daughter tight against her.

  “And what of you, Theresia?” Lana asked in a low voice.

  ‘Okay, I need to do this well. I need to use the right edge.’

  Theresia already felt tired from trying to work her techniques on Puzzle, Maria, and the mayor. She knew that her parents had to be on side with her from the start. It was easier with her mother, being so close to her, the familiarity was something to link the threads to. Theresia kept her eyes closed and began drawing on her affinity yet again, Aether sinking in. She only needed the barest amount, enough to connect to her mother, feel her thoughts and concerns. Being in physical contact made the suggestion very easy to complete. Though she could not see them, Theresia could feel the threads of her suggestion technique settle in and around her mother.

  “I don't want to go join an army or save the world,” Theresia replied, “but I do want to help my friends. And I need to learn how to use my techniques. Nobody in the village has an affinity for Silver.”

  Theresia paused for dramatic effect.

  “If I am to master my skills, I need to find a mentor.”

  Theresia kept her eyes closed and rested on her mother's lap. She was certain that the suggestion had worked; the feel of her mother was different. Her father seemed similarly entranced, though his mind spoke more of caution than willing acceptance. Theresia was exhausted; having used her talents so rapidly in succession had drained her last reserves. Though she hadn't completed any physical exertion, her body still felt like lead, drained and weak. While the adults spoke, she felt herself fall deeper into her mother's lap, sleep beginning to claim her.

  “Your daughter does have a certain way with words,” Perenelle noted. “Perhaps it is time she learned how to better hone her skills.”

  Russell snorted.

  “You can't be serious. You think we would gladly grant responsibility and care of a child into your hands?”

  “It would not be the first time.”

  The hunter looked up and saw Perenelle's steely eyes staring back at him. Though he didn't whither under her gaze, the man rolled his shoulders nervously.

  “I am a trained and well-respected alchemist, Russell Bulwer. Often in my travels I would move between cities great and small. Along the way, parents would ask for me to tend to their children, to escort them to larger settlements and prospective teachers. This is one of the services that the Alchemy Guild provides, one of the services that is recognised and respected by the Empire. You know that much. I am offering the chance for Theresia and your son Heph to become something much bigger than this village, bigger than yourself, if you can think of such things.”

  Russell chewed his lip, not looking convinced.

  “I'll consider it,” he muttered, standing up and sliding the chair into its place at the table.

  “Come, Boy; we have much to discuss,” he muttered.

  Heph gave his friends a worried look, following close by his father. The door closed behind the pair with a note of finality.

  “Theresia has a point,” Anders noted. “But I am still concerned at the short notice for making such a decision.”

  Perenelle gave a commiserating gesture.

  “Normally, I would not rush such things. However, events beyond my control have engineered a very hasty ultimatum. I need you to decide by sunrise tomorrow if you wish for your child to follow myself and my two apprentices to South Greywater.”

  “There is danger in travelling such a distance,” Lana Mesmer noted.

  “No journey is ever safe,” Perenelle agreed. “But the soldiers we would be travelling with are no strangers to violence. Romas Ilthell is one of the few men I would trust my life with. He and his troops are rough, but they are also rather dangerous. Overly keen, as Lendor demonstrated. And he was given a blistering by the Captain by the by. That won’t happen again in several lifetimes. Regardless. You could not ask for a better escort bar the Emperor himself.”

  “I suppose so. Perhaps it might be best for our daughter to find proper training.”

  Anders Mesmer walked over to where his daughter lay in her mother's lap and smiled. By now, Theresia was fast asleep, soft breathing hinting at the truth. The older man looked to his wife and gave her a rueful smile.

  “At the very least, perhaps she can learn a little courtesy when it comes to exercising her gifts.”

  Perenelle raised an eyebrow. Anders explained for the Null's benefit.

  “Our daughter seems to think it acceptable to wield her techniques whenever it might suit her fancy. She even tried it on Lana earlier. I expect with some tutelage, she might become a formidable woman, but for now she's still eleven and learning the basics. It's a little cute, but she needs to grow out of such crude notions.”

  Perenelle gave the sleeping Theresia a shrewd look.

  “Your daughter tried to use a suggestion technique?”

  Master Mesmer nodded.

  “A very weak form, I'm guessing. I don't have her affinity, so the technique is alien to me. But I could feel the build-up of Aether. She's quite talented for her age, but she needs to learn to exercise better control and subtlety.”

  Maria and Puzzle exchanged looks; both faces surprised at how brazen their friend had been.

  “Now, if you will excuse me, I must pack,” Perenelle apologised as she approached the kitchen door and swung it open.

  Anders picked up his sleeping daughter, who barely stirred as he lifted her, cradled the slight girl against his chest, and bobbed his head politely to the alchemist. Perenelle inclined her head in kind. The older man left the house. Lana Mesmer took Perenelle's hands in her own and uttered a quick blessing of thanks.

  “We will probably accept your offer,” she spoke quietly before leaving.

  Perenelle smiled knowingly, giving the woman's hands a squeeze before waving her off to a warm bed and one last night with her daughter. Turning on foot, Perenelle stepped back inside and closed the door behind her. She regarded her two wards with an odd look, a mixture between concern and frustration.

  “You two are going to cause me no end of trouble,” she muttered.

  “Ms Perenelle?” Puzzle asked.

  “No, never mind. Help me clear the last of the dishes, and then we shall pack. I have a great many things I need to properly seal and store. You also have clothes and your own belongings to pack. I would suggest a light load. It will be quite a long walk from the foothills down into the lowlands.”

  Puzzle bobbed his head.

  “Will we be taking horses, Ms Perenelle?” he asked.

  “Romas usually doesn't bother. He prefers to move by foot and cross-country, taking routes that don't suit those with four legs. Besides, Null and animals do not tend to get along well. I will see in the morning about organising a second pair of boots for each of you. I've no doubt you will work through your first pair.”

  Puzzle and Maria bobbed their heads and set to work putting away the cups and books. The young boy seemed to hesitate as he hung the last cup from its small hook in the cupboard. Turning, he looked to his teacher busy looking through various small clay flasks, cataloguing them as she sorted what was to be taken and what was to be left behind.

  “Ahh... Ms Perenelle, I was wanting to... ask...”

  “Your uncle's involvement in all of this, I will explain on our journey west, Puzzle. I've neither the mind nor the spare time to go into full detail. I am not avoiding answers, but right now I need to focus on more immediate concerns.”

  Maria gave Puzzle an assuring pat on the back. Taking a deep breath, Puzzle bit his bottom lip and nodded in assent. His teacher was right; there was still had much to do. They worked late into the night, packing for their journey.

  Governor Nathaniel Xavier strode confidently down the maroon carpet that lined the marble tile floors of the Governor's Offices. The environmental enchantments kept the cool air barred from moving past the great double-door entrance that sat open during the day, leaving the interior an always comfortable temperature. The outside structure was solid and simple in design, keeping in theme with the general aesthetic of the district. Inside, the grandeur was more readily obvious. The spotless, black and white marbled floors, thick carpets from far southern Vahland, paintings from Xuthra, potted tropical plants from Kwalu in great granite pots a testament to the wealth and power of the office.

  ‘A very successful day indeed. Much done and much more to do.’

  Nathaniel flicked his gaze to a side office and saw his assistant had already detected his presence and was striding over. Egurn was an efficient man and indispensable in maintaining all the minutiae that came with the office of governor. Egurn's dark hair was kept short and out of his dark blue eyes. He had a plain face that would blend into a crowd. Only the veins of Copper that spread away from his temples marked him out, testament to his strong affinity. Like his personality, Egurn was dressed for simple efficiency. Black trousers, a dark blue silk shirt, a black coat with a high neck. His polished black boots clicked on the marble floors as the two strode towards the double-stairwell that led up to Nathaniel's office.

  “Good evening, Governor.”

  “Egurn.”

  “I have talked to the Giacomo College; they are reluctant to continue the airship expansion. They may fear that the Vinci College will defeat them in a bidding war, and thus do not wish to give any accurate quotes.”

  “I will speak to the Professor of Giacomo tomorrow.”

  “The quarterly budget appears to have passed through the Senate with little incident. The Bill to increase spending on maintaining the trade roads within the Dells was amended.”

  Nathaniel gave Egurn a side-long glace as the two began walking up the stairs to the third level. With calm ease, he kept his hands on the cool marble railing and not clenched at his sides.

  “How bad?”

  “Nothing that was not taken into consideration before submittal of the Bill. We have managed to keep the three percent increase, which is down two point five, but still above needed estimates.”

  “And the excess?”

  “Will be moved into the pool fund for capital works, in anticipation of investment in the steam train project.”

  “Excellent. What are the projections for the production timeframe and first deployment?”

  “Several of the Colleges have given tender. I have a committee reviewing them; they will report back by end of month. I would estimate at least five years before the first production line arrives. And we still have testing and refinements to go through.”

  “This was expected, but the delays are still disappointing.”

  Nathaniel tugged at the collar of his coat, loosening the scarf he had chosen to wear that day. It had been a cool spring morning, and the governor had dressed accordingly. He had worn black breeches, a maroon silk shirt, and a black coat cut long at the back, red-lacquered steel buttons running up both lapels. The red silk scarf around his neck was a small touch, something to help Nathaniel stand out in the sea of bureaucrats he often worked with.

  As the two reached the third storey, Egurn slowed his pace. Nathaniel knew the man well enough to pause before his foot reached the final step. Egurn did everything with planning and forethought.

  “You also have a guest in your offices, Governor.”

  “A guest?” Nathaniel asked quietly, ice crackling in his voice.

  “He arrived only a short while ago and was insistent that he be admitted to your private offices immediately.”

  “I trust this unannounced guest has a name?”

  “Magister Balthasar of Uwajika, Governor.”

  Nathaniel finished his final step and stopped to gather his thoughts at the top of the stairwell. He touched the steel longsword at his side in reassurance, though against a Magister it was of little use. Nathaniel would have to rely on his wits alone.

  ‘Uwajika is the other side of the world, what is he doing here?’

  “What is one of the Three Great Sages doing here in South Greywater?” Nathaniel muttered to himself.

  “I'm sorry, Governor?” Egurn inquired.

  “It matters not, Egurn. I think it prudent not to keep our guest waiting any longer than is necessary. I will attend to the Magister. Compile your daily reports and have them with my secretary for processing by tomorrow morning.”

  “Of course, Governor.”

  Egurn gave Governor Nathaniel a bow before descending the stairs. Turning back to face the door as though it were a great beast, Nathaniel set his shoulders and strode towards his offices. Opening the door with one hand, he let his gaze wander over the rooms. Heavy oak shelves lined the walls, full top to bottom with books from the five continents. A wood desk sat in one corner, piled high with the latest communications and daily expense reports. Two low wood chairs, almost divans, sat a small distance away from the desk, for receiving guests and notable functionaries. The floor was black and white marble, crimson rugs lying beneath the furniture. Only the symbol of the Empire, a Phoenix with wings swept above its head carved into the desk, marked the room out as anything other than normal government officials’ chambers.

  ‘What have the Fates sent to challenge me this day?’

  The ruffling of light curtains gave Nathaniel all the information he needed. Entering into his private chambers, the governor of South Greywater strode past his table, letting fingers caress over the polished Jarrah surface. Pulling aside a curtain, Nathaniel stepped out into the cool spring evening, walking out onto the balcony and leaning against the granite railing.

  The evening lights of South Greywater greeted the governor that protected and managed the province. Various multi-storey buildings shone in the evening, orange and yellow lights shining from their curtained windows. Larger warehouses glittered in the dark, points of light marking where guards patrolled their borders. Even the smaller Engineering Colleges contributed to the glow, lights from various construction halls and smaller towers sparking blue, purple, and red. Only the Alchemy Hall did not shine, its demure grounds showing smaller glimmering pools of light. Blue and green bio-luminescent plants were their sources of light. And reflecting the filmy glow was the great lake itself, light and colour shimmering across its glassy surface.

  Standing beside the governor was his new guest. The man was taller than he was, and Governor Nathaniel was not a short man. Unlike the governor’s former-soldier bulk, Magister Balthasar was thin and lithe. His ebony complexion marked him as a foreigner from distant northern shores. His face was lined, dark eyes and drawn cheeks the hallmarks of a long and complex life. If the Magister had grey hair, it was unclear as his head was shaved bald. But his eyes held wisdom and his bearing commanded attention. It was the face of someone comfortable and expecting to give an order at any moment.

  The Magister was dressed in Mages’ robes, light grey underlining dark blue and black, but it was the staff that caught the governor's eye. Standing by itself patiently at the Mage's side, the staff appeared to be constructed from a pale white wood inlaid with complex Arcanum Sigils. Both ends of the staff was also shod in Arcanum, the Rare Metal glowing blue in the night.

  “You have a beautiful city, Governor Xavier,” Balthasar said in a deep, rich voice.

  “Thank you, Magister. The Emperor takes care of those who serve him well.”

  “I'm sure he does. But we are not here to discuss the pleasantries of your Empire.”

  “Straight to business. Very well, then. May I ask what you are doing in my offices, unannounced and seemingly without reason?”

  “One of my Scrying Matrix detected the presence of Leonin in your province.”

  “Ah.”

  “‘Ah’, indeed. I take it you have dispatched suitable forces to ensure his capture.”

  Nathaniel turned his gaze from the evening lights of South Greywater to look Balthasar in the eye.

  “Are you attempting to instruct me in how to conduct my offices, Magister?”

  “I am attempting to determine if you have allowed one of the Modern Era's greatest war criminals to slip through your fingers. Do not be embarrassed or angry, Governor; you would not be the first.”

  Nathaniel quashed his anger and took a slow breath. He did not appreciate being questioned by a Mage, and certainly not a foreign Mage.

  “I dispatched one of my elite units; veterans of several campaigns and skilled in dealing with the Empire's enemies. Numbers will not win the day; skill and experience will. I sent with them a Blood-reader and a phylactery to trace him.”

  “What did they determine?”

  “They were too late.”

  “You do not sound ashamed.”

  “You misunderstand me, Magister. Leonin did not slip away into the night like has so many times before. By the time my soldiers had arrived, he was dead.”

  Balthasar raised a grey eyebrow.

  “I find that hard to believe.”

  “The Blood-reader confirmed it. It would appear that Leonin has tired of running and instead chose the cowards way out. He committed suicide, burning his residence and himself.”

  “Was there anything left?”

  “Blackened bones for the Blood-reader.”

  Balthasar stepped away from the railing and gripped his staff in dark, creased hands. The implement responded, the faint blue glow picking up in intensity. To Nathaniel's eyes, it seemed as though the Sigils started to shift and flow across the wood. He could feel the Aether around the Mage suddenly pick up.

  ‘No conduction lines and still he nearly bowls me over. Is he even human?’

  “This isn't the first time that the Black Lion has faked his death to escape justice.”

  “Your Scrying Matrix has detected nothing since. He hasn't used any Necromancy in that intervening time. And the Restless Legion are not exactly on speaking terms with their one-time general. He has no allies, no escape plans, and no way to obscure detection. The Blood-reader followed his echo; he entered the building and killed himself. His last act of magic was to burn himself down along with whatever twisted Object Modules he still maintained.”

  Balthasar let out a resigned sigh and left the balcony. Nathaniel followed behind, stepping back into his office. The Magister strode over to a mahogany chair and slumped into it. He released his staff, letting it sit beside him, propped by his far hand. Nathaniel walked over to a cabinet and popped it open.

  He selected two tumblers of fine crystal from The Cradle. A memento from his second home. Selecting a bottle of Draad brandy, he returned to where Balthasar sat and joined him in the opposite seat.

  “Care for a drink, Magister?”

  The Mage politely shook his head.

  “I will decline the offer. I find it hard to believe that, after all these years, it is such an ignominious ending.”

  “History is rarely generous. Epic conflicts and grand finale are the realm of fictional literature.”

  Balthasar, for the first time, smiled. Nathaniel was not sure how to respond, so he quietly poured himself a drink. Lifting the glass tumbler and its amber liquid upwards, the governor toasted.

  “To the past; may it remain there. And to North Greywater.”

  Nathaniel downed the glass, enjoying the burning that rushed down his throat.

  “I am no Silver Inquisitor, Governor Xavier, but I am very good at ferreting out the truth. I am sure there are details you are leaving out.”

  It was Nathaniel Xavier's turn to smile.

  “You wish to know something, Magister Balthasar?”

  Nathaniel poured a second glass and indicated with the Brandy bottle to Balthasar's glass. This time the Magister inclined his head. The governor poured a finger of amber liquid into the second tumbler.

  “There are two loose ends, Magister.”

  “When men drink, formalities can be set aside. Call me Balthasar.”

  Nathaniel inclined his head slightly.

  “And I, Nathaniel.”

  The governor offered Balthasar a tumbler and picked up his own, but left it hanging.

  “I was there, Balthasar. I remember what the Restless Legion let loose. I remember fighting my former friends’ reanimated corpses. So when I say I am following this through, I have no desire to let the Black Lion escape justice. North Greywater deserves better.”

  “So, what ashes remain?”

  “A nephew and a sword.”

  Balthasar took a sip of the brandy.

  “I was not aware the Black Lion had siblings, let alone one that married and had a child.”

  “Records are never accurate. And when Necromancers are involved, you can never be sure how old they truly are or from whence they come. The last Telegraphy I received informed me the boy was raised as Leonin's nephew. They lived in a small village called Oakdell, on the foothills of the Skyrakers.”

  “I remember North Greywater, too, Nathaniel. The Black Lion had no time for families, and we both know his views on children.”

  Both men took a drink that time.

  “Their murderer is dead. May they rest in peace,” Nathaniel muttered.

  “And what of this sword?”

  “The only relic to survive the fire was the Leaden Blade.”

  Balthasar shook his head politely and raised a finger to disagree.

  “You must remember, Nathaniel, that there are more than one Leaden Blade.”

  “I do not disagree, Balthasar. But you have to admit that there was something more to the blade that he wielded. I've never heard of an enchantment for luck, but perhaps Leonin stumbled upon it.”

  Balthasar chuckled, his deep throaty voice echoing throughout the room.

  “Perhaps. So, what of the blade?”

  “I am aware of the dangers associated with a Leaden Blade. The nephew was carrying the irokane when the Voltaic Key encountered him.”

  “What if the apple does not fall far from the tree? What if the child is a Black Seed?”

  Nathaniel shook his head.

  ‘I remember what happened to those children, too.’

  “One horror of the past will not be rising up again. The child is a Null.”

  Nathaniel was careful to keep his eyes fixed elsewhere when he uttered the last few words. But the reflection from a mirror on the wall gave him the perfect view of the Magister. Balthasar did not jump or twitch, but his eyes lost focus for a second, pupils dilating slightly. Nathaniel took another sip of his brandy, feeling he had achieved a small victory.

  ‘His composure is astounding, regardless.’

  “And now you present me with a riddle,” Balthasar finally spoke.

  “The Journeyman alchemist in the village has taken the boy and another recently identified Null under her wing. They are being escorted to the Alchemy Hall in this city.”

  “And your squad, I take it, is escorting the three of them?”

  Nathaniel nodded.

  “Leonin took a Null under his wing. And if you are correct, spent the last eleven years since his final defeat raising the child, loving him, supporting him. Everything that a parent does,” Balthasar summarised.

  “It does seem... unusual.”

  Balthasar mused for a minute or so. Then he finally spoke again. To Nathaniel, it seemed as though the Magister had shifted his stance, come to some form of decision.

  “I cannot fault your logic, Nathaniel. Having a Null carry the Leaden Blade ensures that no corruption or temptation can occur.”

  “And once the blade is within South Greywater, it will be disposed of. This would not be the first time such a weapon has taken a hold of its own destiny.”

  “Actually, I have a request.”

  “Anything, Balthasar. It is not often that the office of one of the governors of the Sardan Empire is graced with the presence of the Guru of Reason. Do you wish to destroy the blade yourself? Ensure the ritual is properly completed?”

  “Something to that effect. Best to see matters through to their finality.”

  Nathaniel felt a prickling hunch overtake him.

  “You are not here just to learn of Leonin's death.”

  “Mayhap I am not. I have grown tired of the warmer climate of my home, the balmy summers and wet winters. I feel a change in the air, better for the lungs. And living on a such grand lake, it would be a wonderful home in my elder years.”

  Mind going over various possibilities, Nathaniel considered what the Magister was planning. He could see no direct diplomatic or strategic value for Uwajika in placing the man so far from home. Nor could he see Balthasar expanding his already towering reputation by establishing himself on the edges of the Empire. And there was nothing Nathaniel could do; refusing the offer Balthasar hinted at was political suicide.

  “You will remain within the city, establish a tower?” Nathaniel inquired.

  “Of course. I am to understand that the Arcanum tower in your southern districts has been uninhabited since the Siege. With your permission, of course, I will make it my own. I am a busy man, and thus split my time between several locations across the continents. But having a home in the south of Axiom seems a wise decision to make. Perhaps I will take up the mantle of Mentor and train an Understudy. And I should attend to the Spell Matrix.”

  Nathaniel picked up his tumbler and the bottle of Draad Brandy. He slowly walked over to the cabinet and placed the two back inside. Turning around, he eyed the Magister with wiser eyes.

  ‘His legend doesn't do him justice. The man is even more dangerous than we knew.’

  “Then I, of course, graciously accept your offer, Magister Balthasar of Uwajika.”

  Balthasar stood up, too, and drew over his staff with a far hand. Nathaniel gestured to the tumbler in his other hand.

  “You may keep that tumbler; perhaps next time we have a drink, you may bring it over.”

  “You seem more cautious about freely opening your door and offering me hospitality again. Next time, I must bring my own glass?”

  “I learn fast.”

  “Indeed you do. And my request, in regards to the Leaden Blade?”

  “I will see to it that the blade remains in the nephew's possession. Once they have arrived, you may deal with the weapon as you see fit.”

  Balthasar smiled, ivory-white teeth shining out from his dark face.

  “You need to learn to trust me, Governor. This will likely be the first of many meetings. In time, I hope you learn to trust my counsel. I also have one other thing to request, Governor.”

  “Yes?”

  “You may relax; it is but a simple thing. The nephew, what is his name?”

  “Puzzle.”

  Balthasar nodded to himself. Without asking, the Magister left the room, opening and closing the door behind himself. Nathaniel took a few moments to compose himself before walking over to his desk and slumping into the chair. The Fates had changed the governor's life in the space of ten minutes.

  “And I was having such a good day,” he whispered to himself.